


Shattered

by TheSecondBreakfast



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of Meg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecondBreakfast/pseuds/TheSecondBreakfast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Allie sighed as she looked at her unconscious companion, as if expressing her distaste would make him disappear. Why, out of all the people on Earth, did it have to be him? He was well known to be cruel, vicious, and cold-hearted. Why did he have to be so frustratingly attractive?"</p>
<p>A young girl named Allie stumbles upon an injured Guy of Gisborne, shortly after he watched Meg die. She feels as though Fate is laughing at his anguish, doing everything it can to remind him of the girl he was too late to save. Allie tries to help Guy pick up the pieces.</p>
<p>First chapter edited and reposted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, so be sure to leave reviews and tell me how I'm doing! This is chapter one of several (I don't know how many yet, so don't ask) chapters, and I hope to post one every few days or so. I hope you like my OC, and be sure to tell me if you don't like anything. Sorry if Guy seems kinda out of character in this, but he just watched a fourteen-year-old girl die in his arms. Cut him some slack. This first chapter is short, but I plan to make the others longer. Enjoy!

Guy of Gisborne ran between thick trunks and sweeping branches, not caring about his sprained ankle, or the deep slash on his left shoulder. He only cared about running, getting away, fleeing from his anguish as deer flee a predator. Nothing mattered anymore, not even his own physical pain.

Meg was dead.

Meg.

The girl who had seen kindness in him, when even he did not. The girl who almost got herself executed for trying to rescue him. The girl who gave her life over his. The girl too young to die.

Meg.

A root suddenly caught his foot, and he fell , sprawling. Pain exploded in his already sprained ankle, and his vision flickered as his head struck a rock. He had no will left to push himself upright. Blood formed a small pool around his steadily bleeding shoulder. The only person he had cared about since Marian was gone, leaving him alone to his mind-numbing grief. There was nothing left for him. He was alone. Drowning in a sea of anguish with no hope of rescue. No hope at all.

_Meg._

He was ready to die.

He  _wanted_ to die.

There was no chance of redemption now. Not after all the people he'd destroyed. All the hearts he'd broken. All the pain he'd caused.

The second he died, he was going straight to hell, and there was nothing he could do about it. How could you fix something once it's been shattered beyond repair?

Guy lay on the forest floor, grey mist clouding his vision as loss of blood and exhaustion slowly took their toll.

He was almost grateful when unconsciousness claimed him.

***

Allie trudged along the narrow path leading to her small camp. A bag containing food and simple medical supplies was slung over her shoulder. As she walked, the girl wondered how things had acclerated so quickly. One minute, she's an average villager, the next, an outlaw hiding within the forest, running from the new sheriff's wrath. Once it had been determined there was no going back to a small, quiet life in the village, she had set up a small apothocary shop in the heart of Sherwood. People from several small villages came to her for medical help and supplies, in exchange for basic supplies and information on what the new sheriff was doing.

She hadn't have many patients as of late, and her isolated cabin in the woods had become solitary and lonely. If this continued, she would have to get _some_ kind of companion, maybe a dog, or-

Allie drew up short as she noticed drops of blood spattering the trail before her, haphazardly scattered as if whomever's blood it was had been staggering in pain or exhaustion. Backpedaling to get a better look at her surroundings, the young physician scanned the trees nearest to her until she found what she was looking for; a scrawny bush, nearly flattened, acting as a hole in the foliage to a small clearing.

Medical necessity overcame all aprehension. Someone needed help, and she wasn't going to stand around. That was her  _job_ , wasn't it? Help people?

Pushing back the leaves blocking her veiw, she stepped into the clearing. A shape was sprawled about ten feet away, dressed in a slashed and mistreated-looking black shirt, a small pool of blood forming beneath a deep cut on his left shoulder. Flicking dark brown bangs out of her face, she approached warily, though he gave no sign of life, and knelt to better assess his injuries.

His face was gaunt and hollowed, his eyes ringed with dark shadows. Broad shoulders were hunched, as though he wanted to make himself look smaller, or to disappear into the ground completely. There was a deep swordcut on his left shoulder,  _That'll have to be cleaned quickly,_ she thought.  _He's lost enough blood as it is, I'm not sure he could survive a fever on top of that,_ there were at least two cracked ribs, as well as a twisted ankle and mild concussion.Couple that with blood loss and exhaustion, and Allie was amazed he had made it this far before collapsing. As gently as she could, she cleaned his sluggishly bleeding shoulder and bandaged it with strips of cloth from her bag, before binding his chest as tightly as she dared with her patient still injured and unconscious. 

More than once, she caught herself glancing at his face, trying to place him in her memory. She was almost certain she had seen him before, and brushed shadow-black hair off his forehead to better see his sharply-angled face.

His identity clicked. Rocking back on her heels in surprise, Allie stared at him, trying to figure out how in hell the new sheriff's brother had ended up wandering through Sherwood forest injured and about to pass out from exhaustion. Of course she had seen him before, everyone who lived within ten miles of Nottingham had, but the Guy of Gisborne she remembered was nothing like this man slumped unceremoniously on the forest floor. He had none of his usual predatory grace, and his impenetrable walls of cold indifference seemed to have melted. _This_ Guy of Gisborne was not the ruthless, coldhearted bastard she had grown up watching bully the people of her villiage, but an injured and vulnerable man who needed her help.

As she studied him, Guy's eyes flickered open, dazed and not quite focused. The color of them startled her; a piercing, icy blue, like steel trapped beneath ice. Finally his gaze met hers, filled with such raw pain and anguish Allie marveled he had any shred of sanity left. She reached out to touch him, offer him some small comfort, but he flinched away from her hand, eyes widening in fear and alarm.

Raising her hands in a placating gesture, and putting as much reassurance into her voice as possible, the young healer  said, "Hey, calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you. My name's Allie."

Whether he registered or comprehended any of what she said, Allie didn't know, but she felt Guy's tension relax as his eyes slid shut.

 

Now how the hell was she gonna get him back to camp?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except Allie and the plotline. Everything else belongs to BBC.


End file.
